Hurricane sheets,
splashing cracked dishes high.
Drops of black tea staining cream carpet,
as a whirlpool of alphabet soup swirls
amongst the destruction.
Curtains torn haphazardly across
the setting moon-light.
Sinking bed barren save for a girl,
violet hair fallen over sleepless years.
Arms and legs scratched up like fiberglass,
a crinkled white gown sliding off the shoulder.
Heart pumping ludicrously.
Pushing away her ruffled bangs.
Dark blue irises stare back from the fractured mirror
She drifts on scattered shards.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem